


It's who we are, doesn't matter if we've gone to far.

by orphan_account



Category: Cricket RPF
Genre: Gen, Hogwarts AU, M/M, and of course my brain went straight to harry potter, because an anon prompted me AU for this xmas giveaway
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-14
Updated: 2013-12-14
Packaged: 2018-01-03 16:02:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,131
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1072410
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hogwarts AU because you're not a real fandom without a Hogwarts AU</p>
            </blockquote>





	It's who we are, doesn't matter if we've gone to far.

**Author's Note:**

  * For [aussiecricket](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=aussiecricket).



 

It should say something about his best friend that Chris Rogers doesn’t even bother looking up from his book as Shane Watson comes barrelling into the Ravenclaw common room despite the fact he’s actually a Gryffindor. The sight has actually become so common over the years the only people that even bother sparing him a glance are the curious (and slightly confused looking) first years.

“Good morning Shane.” Chris comments mildly, keeping his eyes trained on his Transfiguration book even though by sheer virtue of Shane’s presence he can no longer concentrate.

“It is, isn’t it?” Shane agrees leaning against the wall next to Chris’ chair; one of the only walls that’s not actually a book case, “Brilliant weather we’re having.”

To anyone else it probably sounds like awful small talk but Chris knows exactly where this is going. “Oh yeah?” He asks, cocking an eyebrow as he looks up from his textbook.

“Perfect Quidditch weather in fact.” Shane says like it wasn’t the whole reason he climbed into Ravenclaw tower in the first place.

“You play Quidditch in all weather Shane.” Chris points out, shutting his book with a quiet thump and crossing his arms over his chest.

“Yes but you endure some weather to play Quidditch and some weather is perfect for Quidditch.” The tone of voice Shane uses suggests he thinks Chris is an idiot for not knowing this. Chris thinks he’s probably more idiotic for following Watson Logic, which has become a bit of a legend around the castle because of how _illogical_ it is. 

“You’ve already set up a game haven’t you?” Chris asks deadpanned, pretty sure he’s right.

“Yes. And you’re coming to play with us whether you like it or not.” Shane nodded his head determinedly, like it was going to happen simply because he wanted it to.

“Am I now?” Chris asks wryly. Of course he’s going to end up going along with what Shane wants, he always does. Thankfully he’s never been asked to do something too dangerous or banned before but he knows the day is going to come eventually and he still won’t be able to refuse.

“You’d never pass up on an opportunity to play Quidditch.” Chris isn’t sure if Shane realises their priorities in life aren’t exactly the same.

“This may be a shock to you but there are other important things in my life.” Chris explains though he’s not sure why since it’s pretty pointless. If he really wanted to get out of playing he could always not try, that’d ensure Shane never asked him to play again again. Of course it’s a dumb idea since spending less time with Shane is the exact opposite of what Chris wants.

“Besides Quidditch and me?” Shane asks as if the idea had never occurred to him. Chris knows Shane isn’t as dumb as he makes himself out to be, he can get into the Ravenclaw common room after all, but sometimes he can’t tell if Shane has frequently occurring dumb moments or the oddest sense of humour ever, “That’s a lie, nothing can be more important than an invitation from me to play Quidditch.”

“Is that invitation an open one Watto?” Brad Haddin asks, suddenly dropping into the seat across the table from Chris.

“Of course not.” The look on Shane’s face suggests that the idea of an ‘open’ Quidditch game is completely below him. He’s probably afraid the amateur will rub off on him or something, Chris certainly wouldn’t put it past him, “But it does extend to you, I just assumed you were off being sensible with Clarkey”

Brad let out a long suffering sigh, “You know I can’t decide if you’re trying to be witty or insulting with that.” 

“Neither.” Shane shrugs easily, “I just call them like I see them.”

“On that note.” Chris says assertively, standing up and hoping to end this conversation before it devolves into another round of insult flinging like it had between Clarke and Shane less than a week ago, “How about we actually go and play Quidditch then.”

Shane smiles brightly at him, pushing his body away from the wall, “I knew you couldn’t resist me.”

Chris returns the smile, before picking up his book and heading up to his dorm room to grab his broom, all the while pointedly ignoring Brad’s knowing grin.

* * *

The three of them arrive down at the Quidditch pitch to see the regular group of misfits milling around in the middle of the pitch, as rowdy and loud as usual.

“Is it too late to return to studying?” Brad asks Chris as they follow behind Shane, who is practically skipping, at a more sedate pace.

“Sadly yes. Now we’re here there’s no escaping from this lot.” Chris sighs for effect, quickly surveying who they’ve managed to rustle together for this match. It appears to be the usual gang, except for Mitch Starc and James Pattinsonwho have Saturday detentions for the rest of the school semester. It’s only the 5th week.

“Took you long enough to get them Watto.” Dave Warner calls out, turning his body towards the approaching group with his usual cheeky grin, “We were considering starting without you.”

“I didn’t hear you offering to go up to the Ravenclaw common room,” Shane retorts with his own cheeky little grin that could also be described as slightly smug, “Oh wait, can you even get in?” He asks playfully as he claps Dave on the back. The two of them are Gryffindor housemates, though Chris remembers the two of them creating some sort of a ruckus at the sorting ceremony; they’d gravitated together even then.

“Right, now that everyone is here let’s get started.” Michael Clarke, claps his hands drawing everyone’s attention towards him. “Teams are going to be Hufflepuff versus everyone else.”

“Is that really wise? Giving them more time to practice together?” Michael Johnson, Slytherin’s slightly erratic beater asks. It’s why they usually play these games in mixed up teams, so no house team gets the extra practice in.

“It should be fine.” Dave interjects, still smiling, ready to voice what is almost certainly going to be a vague insult, “Hufflepuff need all the practice they can get anyway.”

“Excuse me Davey,” Steve Smith, who has just earned his position on Hufflepuff’s house team,interjects, “But who won the Quidditch cup last year?”

“You did. But I think you’re forgetting the fact that Gillyand Huss have all graduated.” Dave continues on, “So that was what? Like 80% of your talent.”

Chris feels like he should probably step in before the playful sledging gets serious or so carried away they don’t actually get any Quidditch played, which is not an exaggeration, he’s seen it happen before.

“You’re also forgetting there’s only 5 of us and 7 of you.” Ryan Harris points out in his usual calm manner. He was tossing his beater’s bat absent-mindedly between his hands, the only indication of the intimidating manner he develops the second his broom leaves the ground. 

Clarke runs his eyes around the group briefly before settling on where James Faulkner is whispering to George Bailey. To Bailey’s credit, Chris thinks, he seems to be ignoring Jimmy pretty well, something he knows from experience is hard to do. Then again if he’d been best friends with the guy for 16 years it’s a skill he might have developed himself. “Well.” Clarke says dryly, drawing Faulkner’s attention to him now, “Since Faulkner seems unable  to part from Bails he can play with the Hufflepuffs.”

“Better than playing with the snakes.” Jimmy shrugs, always one to play upon the historical rivalry between his house and Slytherin. 

“Nathan you alright to play as a Chaser?” Clarke ignores Jimmy and  instead turns his attention to Nathan Lyon. Usually he referees these games since they don’t play with seekers (Snitch’s are too rare for these casual gatherings according to Clarke) but with Starc and James Both unavailable to play they don’t really have any other options.

“Aye Aye Captain!” Lyon salutes sarcastically.

“So as always it’s 6 on 6. Three chasers, two beaters and a keeper. Winner is the team with the most points when an hour is up.” Clarke begins to explain the rules, and Chris starts to tune out.

“Someone should tell Clarkey that his Head Boy powers don’t extend to social situations.” Shane mutters to Chris out of the corner of his mouth as Clarke continues to outline the same rules that they’ve been playing with for the past 4 years.

Chris isn’t sure what Shane wants him to say in response because he’s been complaining about Clarke’s controlling tendencies since they started these games up in third year. Thankfully though he doesn’t  _need_  to say anything more because Clarke has finally finished with his rule rehash and the two teams are splitting off from each other for ‘team’ huddles.  

The problem with their team, Chris notices straight away, is the presence of 3 Quidditch house captains who have different strategies. Brad quickly submits to Clarke’s leadership, they do strategies in similar ways after all, but Shane’s not going to go as quietly.

Chris looks over to the Hufflepuffs, envious of the fact they’re all calmly listening to Bailey outline their strategy (though these games always turn into sort of free for alls) like it’s any Quidditch game. Peter Siddle catches his eyes, sending him a wink and a sympathetic smile before they both return their attention to the group huddles.

Shane is now quietly pouting, arms crossed over his chest and everything, whilst Clarke outlines his, as usual, unorthodox strategy. Chris is sure though that Shane is going to play some stupid move in the middle of the game, he’d bet his chocolate frog card collection on it.

“Some guys just have the biggest egos.” Dave quips to Chris. Turning his head in surprise, because Dave is one to talk, he realised that Dave is giving him a cheeky wink and taking the piss out of himself. At least one of the assholes he calls a friend is aware he’s an asshole

“Are you ready to go yet guys?” Jimmy calls over from the other side of the pitch, snatching the Quaffle out of Steve’s grip and throwing it into the air carelessly, as they turn towards the Hufflepuffs, “We’re burning daylight here.”

“Are you that eager to get beaten Jimmy?”  Mitch taunts, speaking up for the first time since the teams had been decided. Probably getting into the ‘zone’, or staying out of the battle of egos involving Shane and Michael; one of his closest friends and his Quidditch captain. 

“Confident are you?” Bailey asks mildly. Most of the time the Hufflepuff Team Captain is a genuinely nice guy, but Quidditch seems to bring out the competitive side in all of them. It’s why they play these ‘friendly’ games after all.

“We’re so confident we’ll even let you start with the Quaffle.” Dave interjects rashly. It earns him a slight glare from Clarke, but he doesn’t voice his interjection so Jimmy throws the Quaffle back to Steve as they all kick off the ground, except for Ryan who’s job it is to release the bludgers.

“Right,” Clarke yells out once everyone’s gotten into position around the pitch, “We have an hour starting now. Harris release the bludgers.”

Straight away Smithy and Faulkner make their way down the pitch passing the ball between each other. Chris hovers back near Brad as Shane and Clarke  head forwards. Dave hits the bludger with an almighty crack towards Lyon, however at the last second Harris appears, hitting the bludger towards Siddle who redirects it towards Clarke. Clarke ducks under it and in the meantime Shane has managed to intercept a pass between Lyon and Faulkner. 

Chris speeds across the pitch underneath Shane, executing a Porskoff Ployon Smithy and Faulkner perfectly, Shane drawing them up before dropping the Quaffle down to Chris, who manages to score. First points on the board to team ‘Mishmash’ as Dave had named them.

In reply Bailey returns the Quaffle to Faulkner who, with the back up of the perfectly synchronised team of Harris and Siddle, scores almost immediately. 

The game continues in this manner for almost the full hour, every one of their goals being matched by the Hufflepuffs soon after.

It has to be drawing close to the end of the game, and the scores are tied, when Chris notices that Shane is planning something. Invariably this something is going to involve Chris’ participation. Whether or not he’s a  _willing_  participant is a complete other story.

All the warning Chris gets is a shout of “Flick,” from Shane before he’s attempting a Finbourgh, throwing the Quaffle into the air, leaping off his broom in mid air before using it to hit the Quaffle through the air. It sails past George into the opposite goal. Of course Chris, being the spineless enabler that he is, manages to fly directly into Shane’s path so he can land on the back of Chris’ broom just as Clarke’s wand lets out the high pitched noise that indicates the end of the match. 

“You are insane.” Chris tells Shane breathlessly as their ‘team’ descends on them for a celebratory midair hug and more hair ruffling than Shane looks particularly comfortable with (then again touching Shane’s hair is usually a no under any circumstances).

“It’s part of my charm.” Shane shrugs cheekily, settling himself on the back of Chris’ broom for their descent to the ground despite the fact his own broom is clutched in his right hand.

“Anyone up for a second game?” Jimmy asks as soon as their on the ground, bouncing around on the balls of his feet.

“What one defeat isn’t enough for you?” Warner asks teasingly, standing up on his tip toes so he can ruffle his housemates hair. 

“You only won because Watto doesn’t value his life.” Peter comments with a snort, slinging a friendly arm around Shane’s shoulder, “That’s hardly something to brag over.”

“Whatever gets the results.” Shane ducks out from under Peter’s arm with a laugh, “Just because none of you lot have imagination.”

“And you wonder why the lions have a reputation as recklessly stupid.” Johnson actually looks up from where he’s having a conversation with Ryan to get in a sledge against his rival house. Chris will never understand it to be honest, he’s certainly glad Ravenclaw doesn’t have a stupid historical rivalry with anyone. “We embrace our reputation as recklessly stupid thank you very much.” Shane swings an easy arm around Dave shoulder, who plays along by nodding in a faux solemn manner.

Chris rolls his eyes with a sigh completely convinced the two idiots are going to get each other killed one of these days.

Brad and Michael, Chris has noticed, have taken a seat on the grass at the side of the Quidditchpitch so he decides to go over to sit with them, the slightly more sane ones. Or at least they’re better at hiding their insanity.

“How do you manage to keep that guy in line?” Michael asks him abruptly as Chris sits down opposite the two of them before promptly leaning back so he’s lying on his back. 

“No one keeps that guy in line.” Chris shakes his head with an amused laugh, because the idea of Shane listening to anyone is pretty amusing, “He does his own thing. 60% of the time it goes great. The rest of the time he royally fucks up.”

“Yeah but when he’s with you he rarely seems to fuck up.” Haddin points out, that annoying grin from this morning once more present. 

“That’s because unlike his stupid ass housemates I have some sense.” Chris mumbles, really wishing this conversation would stop already. He doesn’t like the smug, knowing looks the other guys are wearing.

Fortunately, or unfortunately depending on the situation, Shane seems to have a sense for when Chris is feeling uncomfortable and naturally gravitates towards him, some of the others following behind him.

“It’s a shame you’re not a Ravenclaw, Watson.” Brad comments, once Shane is within hearing distance “You’d drive me mad for sure; but with you and Chris on our team we’d be dominating the Quidditch.”

“What can I say. Everyone wants me.”  Shane shrugs carelessly, flopping down onto the grass next to Chris. 

Chris tries not to notice the fact that their arms are pressing together because he’s not a teenaged girl. “How do you even survive playing for the house cup?” He asks Shane, just to take his mind off of, well, Shane, “Not showing off with the flashy shots?”

“I don’t trust any of these lot as much as I trust you.” Shane shrugs again. Of course he’s referring to the fact Chris is one of the least reckless Quidditch players at this school, there’s nothing else to it, “Can you imagine me trying to do that with Jimmy.”

“You would probably have died.” Harris comments matter of factly, joining their little group on the grass.

“I resent that implication.” Jimmy sniffs, as everyone suddenly converges on where they’re sitting. Chris feels like this is probably what Clarke and Brad were trying to avoid, but they can’t pick and choose when they like company.

“Oh please Jim.” George rolls his eyes, slinging an around around his friends shoulder, “You struggle to keep yourself balanced on that thing let alone another human being as unpredictable as Watto.”

“You know I feel like you’re trying to insult us.” Shane speaks up from where he’s been tossing a Quaffle back and forth with Dave (and Chris had been so distracted he hadn’t even noticed Dave sit down), “But really you’re just saying we’re perfect Gryffindors.”

“I’m pretty sure no one would ever use the word perfect to describe you Watto.” Clarke rolls his eyes, though Chris has to admit perfect was perhaps the wrong word to use, “Not even your biggest fan.” 

The way Brad winks at him leaves Chris with no illusions of who they’re talking about.

No one else seems to notice however, probably because Dave takes that moment to tackle Shane to the ground (Which isn’t far considering they’re both sitting) yelling about how “You’ll always be perfect to me Shaney.” 

Chris shakes his head, closes his eyes and lets the (rare) sun beat down on him, listening to the sounds of his friends mucking around; they’re officially batshit insane he decides, but then again that probably makes him equally so for putting up with them.

Still, he’s is pretty sure he can deal with it, especially if this year ends up as, well for lack of a better term, batshit insane as it’s shaping up to be.

 

 


End file.
